


Crowns and Roses

by donotjustlive_fly



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: AU of an AU, Additional Pairings to be Added, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, GTA V AU, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pole Dancing, Raywood, Strippers & Strip Clubs, strip club au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:46:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3304598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donotjustlive_fly/pseuds/donotjustlive_fly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a dark little corner of Los Santos there sits a strip club called Goin' Brakeless, from where the tattooed-and-mustachioed man who all-but owns the city runs his kingdom. Amongst his 'court' are a ginger bartender and his klutzy British assistant, a feisty Jersey boy who's a diva on and off the stage and his fellow redheaded waitress-dancer, a blue-eyed bouncer with a goofy side that is mostly hidden by his intimidating attitude, and a Puerto Rican sharp-shooting sniper down on his luck and working the pole to make ends meet. Chaos ensues.</p><p>(A strip club AU of the GTA V AU.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this idea has been bouncing around my head for several weeks now and, after posting some ramblings on Tumblr (found here: http://donotjustlive-fly.tumblr.com/post/110234909503/okay-so-i-have-more-aus-in-my-head ), finally started writing last night. This is currently all that I have officially written, but trust me when I say that there is MUCH to come.
> 
> Huge thanks to lanadelraywood for being my sounding board and to my darling Brooke for betaing, and to both of them for putting up with my flighty enthusiasm. The song is 'There's a Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven't Thought of It Yet' by Panic! at the Disco.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

If you’d told Ray even a year before that he would be sitting at a scratched up table in a strip club at noon, watching some skinny blonde with too much makeup inexpertly spinning around the pole and waiting with a dozen other people for his own time up on that stage, he would have laughed in your face and asked what you were smoking. Desperate times called for desperate measures, though, and his sniper-for-hire career wasn't taking off as quickly as he'd hoped and his shitty apartment wasn't getting any cheaper, so here he is. Sitting at a table with a thousand names and rude words knifed into the top, watching as skinny-broomstick-lady trips off the stage, beaming and oblivious to the look of exhausted exasperation on the owner's face and the barely-restrained derision being sent her way from the head dancer at the ginger's side. "Well then. Thank you for that- _performance_ , ah, Krystal Jemm. That was- thank you. Moving on... Who's next, Jacky-boy?" The dancer tips his chair back carelessly, studying his nails with an air of boredom as Jack shuffles through the pages spread across the table in front of them.

 

"Next up is- Ray Narvaez Jr. Please give your music to Lindsay and take the stage." His heart jumps into his throat involuntarily- ' _what the hell are you nervous about, this is just a fucking shot in the dark, you're mainly doing this to see the look on Kerry's face when you tell him later_ '- and the chair screeches slightly as he stands up quickly and heads up front; the woman manning the decrepit-looking sound system gives him an encouraging grin and a thumbs up as he hands over the cd.

 

The lights are nearly blinding as he stands next to the slender silver pole center-stage, throwing the small audience into smudgy shadow and giving him an odd sense of comfort. It's far easier to imagine he's goofing off in his apartment as he toes off his shoes so he's barefoot, using the battered pole that had been a joke and conversation piece when he'd first discovered it in his new apartment but quickly became a way to work off some adrenaline after a successful job; just he, himself, and Brendon Urie as the familiar drum beats echo through the room. He takes a deep breath- and begins.

 

_“Please leave all overcoats, canes, and top hats with the doorman- from that moment you’ll be out of place and underdressed…"_

 

Ray grips the pole lightly and just swings around it gently for a moment, getting a feel for the balance and strength of it, then kicks up to get a little more momentum, one leg curled under him with the other angled in front. He lets himself spiral down to the ground then rolls backward over his shoulder to get back to his feet, stifling a grin at the murmur of interest from his audience. Stepping forward and gripping the pole, he kicks off in one smooth movement to swing around it with just his hands, savoring the subtle burn in his arms and chest as he keeps his body balanced. He slides down just enough to alight on the ground briefly then kicks off again, this time curling his body inward and upward to flip upside down as he spins, legs in a wide 'V' and toes pointed in a way he knows pulls his calve muscles gorgeously taut. The next spiral down is complete with a twisted fan kick to get his feet back on the ground, and he takes a reprieve from the pole to work the crowd a bit, sauntering toward the edge of the stage and unzipping his hoodie slowly. He lets it slide a bit down one arm as he does a slow spin, pausing with his back to the audience to glance over his shoulder with a faint smirk and a wink before he slips the hoodie off completely and struts back toward the pole, now dressed in just his dark wife beater and khaki shorts.

 

_“I’m the new cancer, never looked better, you can’t stand it. Because you say so under your breath. You’re reading lips- when did he get all confident?"_

 

The smooth metal of the pole is cool under his palms as he climbs partway up it, then grips it tightly with his thighs as he lowers himself backward slowly; there's an audible gasp from the darkness beyond the stage as he re-grabs the pole and air-walks back to the floor, enjoying the way he can feel his abdomen working to keep himself steady with each mock step. He sinks to the floor in a split and then rolls back over his shoulder to his feet again, letting the predatory smirk that had been threatening at his lips finally break free as he bends backward in a graceful arch, kicking into a handstand briefly before cartwheeling sideways. In a final show of his skills as the part of the music he was using begins wrapping up, he jumps at the pole and swings himself rapidly, twisting and coiling himself around it in a complicated set of motions before finally landing and striking a triumphant pose.

 

The room is silent for a long minute as the drum and horns fades out, Ray breathing slow and deep as his heart rate evens back out; a broad grin splits across his face involuntarily as a smattering of enthusiastic applause erupts from the small crowd, hopping off the stage and puffing up slightly with pride at the appreciative look he’s getting from the haughty dancer and the thrilled smile on Jack’s face. He settles back in his chair, winking jokingly at the little chubby brunette at the next table who is staring at him in awe. “That was _amazing_. Where did you learn to do that?” She whispers as the club people bend their heads together in heated discussion, scooting her chair closer; Ray shrugs nonchalantly.

 

“Most of it was self-taught. I’ve watched a lot of Youtube videos.” She shakes her head in disbelief, then jumps as they call out for a Melody Sunquist.

 

“Oh, that’s me. No pressure- not like you’re a tough act to follow or anything.” His laughter causes her to grin before she skips toward the stage, audibly whistling to herself. Ray settles in to watch the rest of the auditions; he’s distracted, however, by the sensation of eyes burning into the back of his skull. He glances around to see a tall, broad shouldered figure leaning against the bar, his dirty blond hair falling into his eyes which are trained unerringly on him. A slow, devilish smile spreads across the other man’s lips, and Ray whips back toward the stage, sinking into his chair as heat steals up his cheeks.

 

‘ _I think I could get used to it here.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for giving it a read! Please let me know what you thought about it- reviews give me life!
> 
> Edit: I think I'm going to aim for a weekly update schedule. We'll see how long that lasts, although this time around I have people who will prod me into moving.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr for updates, behind-the-scenes thoughts, and randomness:  
> donotjustlive-fly.tumblr.com


	2. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Mr. Narvaez,_   
>  _After reviewing your résumé and discussing your audition, we are pleased to offer you a position at Goin' Brakeless..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter this week. I'm off from work until next Thursday, though, so hopefully the writing bug will bite and I'll be able to jump ahead in this a bit further. Enjoy this little interlude!
> 
> Once again, I owe a world of thanks to lanadelraywood and my Brooke- they have been unspeakably supportive and patient with my random bursts of insanity. You gals are simply the best.

* * *

_Mr. Narvaez,_

_After reviewing your résumé and discussing your audition, we are pleased to offer you a position at Goin' Brakeless. Please arrive at the club around noon on Wednesday to get measured for your uniform, meet your coworkers, and begin working with our choreographer._

_Welcome to the family._

_Geoffrey L. Ramsey_   
**_Proprietor and Manager, Goin' Brakeless_ **

_If I can veer off script for a moment, I wanted to tell you that Jack and some of the others have been speaking very highly of you since your audition. I look forward to seeing you in action. There may also be a secondary job I believe might fit you if you're interested. We'll discuss it on Wednesday._

_-Geoff_

\-----

"You _what_?" Ray grins broadly at his friend from where he's hanging on his pole, the look of slack-jawed shock on Kerry's face even more enjoyable upside down.

"I auditioned at Goin' Brakeless. They just emailed me to inform me of my new employment, and I need to show up on Wednesday for rehearsal and shit." He laughs as the blond continues to gape at him in silence, flipping back down to his feet and sprawling across his couch.

"...you're going to be a _stripper_. At a gay bar."

"It's just a regular strip club, Ker. I'm one of, like, only three guys. There's seven or eight women. It's an equal-opportunity club." Kerry shakes his head slowly at the Puerto Rican's amusement, eyes still wide although his shock has noticeably faded.

"...you do know I'm going to come heckle you, right?"

"Wouldn't expect anything less, man. I get the feeling Mr. Ramsey might not like that though- haven't met the big boss yet, but it seems like he runs a pretty tight ship." Kerry abruptly straightens, going slightly pale.

"Mr. Ramsey? As in Geoff Ramsey?" Ray quirks a brow, absently flipping his phone with nimble fingers.

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

" _Ray_. How do you not know Geoff Ramsey's name? He's the fucking head of Fake AH. Jesus, no wonder you're not getting any jobs- how out of the loop are you?" The younger man bristles slightly, sitting up and lobbing an empty soda can at his friend's head.

"I'm out of the loop because no one fucking hires me, and clearly you aren't doing a great job at helping me with connections, tech boy. How could the boss man of Fake AH run a club? The police would be all over him in a hot minute."

"His public record is absolutely spotless- his lackeys are the ones on-site for jobs and he keeps his hands clean, so the cops can't pin anything on him. I knew he was running the show from a strip joint but I'd never heard the name. Be careful, man- he's not someone to cross." Ray narrows his eyes thoughtfully, folding his arms and leaning back into the couch.

"He said he might have another job offer for me. You don't think...?" Kerry shrugs.

“Honestly, I'd be surprised if he doesn't somehow know your preferred sniper rifle. Be prepared for anything." After a minute, a slow smile spreads across Ray's face, eyes glinting behind his glasses.

"I always am, Kerry my man. I always am."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely, positive reviews last week- I'm beyond excited that this is something other people want to see as well! Your comments and feedback fill my heart with happiness and lights a fire in my fingers.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr for updates, behind-the-scenes thoughts, and randomness:  
> donotjustlive-fly.tumblr.com


	3. Wednesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how much fun I'm having with this fic. Between random ideas I've come up with on my own and suggestions from my Dream Team, there is a lot of exciting stuff in the future. I can't wait to share them all with you guys!
> 
> Side note- my Michael is a touch inspired by the gorgeous fic "Would You Kindly, Daddy?". The way Emono writes him is glorious, and I can only hope to write my Michael even a fraction as sassy and sexy as he is in WYKD.
> 
> As always, a world of thanks to lanadelraywood and my Brooke- this wouldn't exist without you, ladies!

* * *

 

When Ray walks in on Wednesday, the club is bustling with people cleaning tables, moving boxes, and stocking the bar. The only familiar faces he spots are the dancer and the redheaded woman ( _'Lindsay_?') from audition day. They are attempting to wash down a table and sweep the floor respectively, but seem to be thoroughly distracted by having a rag throwing fight with a lanky brunette man behind the bar instead. Ray lingers just inside the door awkwardly, unsure where to go, before a cheerful voice calls out his name; he glances around, smiling when he sees the younger woman he'd semi-befriended a few days prior.

"Hey, Melody right? Glad to see they hired you too." To his surprise, she hugs him as soon as she's in range, beaming and bouncing on the balls of her feet after she pulls away.

"I honestly wasn't expecting it- I mean, everyone knew _you_ were getting a job, and I'm only waitressing for now, but hey, a job's a job! I'm just really glad to see a friendly face. I don't recognize anyone else from Monday and no one’s, like, come to collect us or anything.” She’s barely finished speaking before the majority of the club quiets, all eyes turning toward the man who had just sauntered out from a skillfully hidden door in the back corner of the room. Dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and worn jeans, bedheaded and sleepy-eyed with an impressively curled mustache, he wasn’t immediately intimidating. The obvious respect being given him from nearly everyone in the room, however, makes it clear who he is: Geoff Ramsey, club owner and kingpin. The trio near the bar are the only ones who pay no mind to his entrance, the two men continuing to flick each other across the counter with rags as the woman laughs hard enough that the only thing keeping her upright appears to be the broom she’s leaning on. Geoff folds his arms as he surveys the room and Ray stares at the dark swirls of ink peeking out at his wrists and curling up along his hands.

“Michael, Gavin. _Enough_.” Gavin appears to startle and lose his balance, disappearing behind the bar with a startled squawk and a flurry of limbs, which sends Lindsay into another fit of giggles. Michael, on the other hand, flips the rag across his shoulder and gives the other man an impish grin, leaning coquettishly against one of the bar stools.

“Sorry, boss.” Geoff rolls his eyes, mustache visibly twitching with the smile he’s doing a poor job of fighting back, and reaches out to steal the rag and whip the smaller man’s behind with it. Ray exchanges a look of bewilderment with Melody, then briefly glances over at the small group of new hires who look just as out of place as he feels. 

“Brat. You and Lindsay need to go get ready for our newbies. Does anyone know if they’re here yet?” Almost as one, everyone in the little crowd of newcomers raise their hands; the owner stares for a moment, then grins broadly as he crosses the room with long strides. “Sorry about that, kids, welcome. The name’s Geoff Ramsey..."

The afternoon passes in a blur of faces and names, a ‘brief’ tour of the building derailing quickly as the varied crew of colorful characters who make up the staff interrupt with comments and stories, each distraction met with exasperated amusement from the boss. They're poked, prodded, and measured by a cheerful blonde named Barbara in the dressing room, formally introduced to the assistant bartender Gavin, poked fun at by the show master/host Jon and the dj Miles. They fleetingly meet dancers Griffon, Kara, Arryn, and Meg, and floor security Matt and Jeremy. The only tangent Geoff willingly takes is in the middle of his explanation of how private dances are handled, poking his head out into the main room to ask if anyone knew where someone by the name of Ryan was; at the general consensus of 'not a clue' and an oddly pointed look from Jack behind the bar, the older man shrugs and says that they'd meet the bouncer and head of security the following night.

He finally releases them after a few hours, letting Lindsay shepherd the new dancers to the stage while the rest are collected by Jack. As the afternoon fades into evening, the dancer-cum-choreographer runs through some basic drills and routines, learning strengths and weaknesses while simultaneously getting to know her 'stage kittens'. (The first time she uses the term the half dozen newbies in question exchange confused looks while Michael, elegantly sprawled on the edge of the stage, muffles laughter.) Lindsay is just wrapping up, explaining the line up for the following evening, when a firm hand abruptly settles on Ray's shoulder. He does his best to stay calm and relaxed as he glances up at his new boss, the older man shooting him a reassuring smile. "Sorry to interrupt, Linds, but I need to steal Ray. Are you done with him for the evening?" The redheaded woman waves them off with a grin and turns her attention back to the other new dancers as Geoff steers them off the stage.

The first trickle of nervousness slips like ice down Ray's spine as they cross the room to the hidden door, and the sight of the nondescript office (a stereotypical 'big boss' office chair behind a large wooden desk, a single, uncomfortable looking chair across from it) inside does little to help him relax. Nonetheless, he sits when the older man motions to the seat and does his best not to squirm as he's regarded with cool grey eyes. ' _Come on, man, just stay calm. It could be absolutely nothing. Relax_.' After a moment Geoff pushes his sleeves up his arms and props an elbow on the table, tapping a finger against a closed file centered on the desk.

"So. Ray. You said on your application that this is your first gig at a club, but from what I saw this evening it's obvious you've got skill. How did you get started with pole dancing?" ' _Easy enough_.'

"Well, sir, it-"

" _Please_ , I'm not that ancient yet. Just call me Geoff, buddy." Ray hesitates, then nods.

"In all honesty, it started as a bit of a joke, Geoff. There was a pole already installed when I first moved into my apartment and I just started playing around on it. Somewhere along the way in the past year I started taking it seriously and, well, here I am." The older man nods thoughtfully, a pen being twirled between absent fingers; Ray does his best not to stare at the solid bands of tattoos wrapped around his forearms.

"You listed your last place of employment as a Game Stop in New York two years ago. That's quite a ways from Los Santos. What brought you to this shithole of a city?" ' _And there's the worst possible question he could ask. Shit.'_

"Life wasn't going the way I was wanting it to and I was looking for a fresh start. An old friend of mine had moved out here after high school and, uh, said he'd be able to help me get a job. We haven't exactly had much success." ' _Technically true._ ' A faintly amused look flicks across Geoff's face briefly, and Ray feels his heart sink.

"How good are you with that sniper rifle of yours?" Even having been expecting it, Ray freezes for a moment at the question, a wide-eyed look of mild terror crossing his face; the boss grins and leans back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head. "Relax, Brownman. If I wanted you dead you wouldn't be sitting in my office right now." Geoff goes abruptly serious, meeting Ray's surprised stare with an open, honest face. "I think you could be a valuable asset to my crew- but I want you to understand that there is absolutely no pressure. You're part of the family now, whatever capacity that may be, and your employment here is not hinged on whether you take me up on a sniping job"

"That- sir, Geoff, I-" His stuttering is waved away, the other man once again smiling sincerely. 

"You don't have to give me an answer now, Ray. Take some time to think on it. I'll contact you when I think I might need you for a job and you can let me know then. Alright?" Ray nods silently, still reeling slightly from the unexpected turn of the last few minutes, and Geoff laughs, rising and circling the desk to clap a hand on the smaller man's shoulder companionably. "Head home, kid. You'll need all the rest you can get before tomorrow."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot express how much the enthusiastic response to this fic means to me. Every time my email notifies me of a review, I start dancing around the house out of pure joy. Thank you for the reviews!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr for updates, behind-the-scenes thoughts, and randomness:  
> donotjustlive-fly.tumblr.com


	4. Interlude: The Text

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _'I'm waiting...'_   
>  _'I'll be there in a second.'_
> 
> An interlude with Michael and Geoff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING LAST WEEK. My dear Ray brought a certain set of tweets to my attention, which derailed me from the chapter I was already working on, but then I got a bit hung up on a certain part of this chapter and my Brooke went out of town so I was all kinds of lost. But hopefully this chapter makes up for it!
> 
> Also, for a fic that's ultimately supposed to be Raywood, Ray and Ryan still haven't actually met yet, and I am so sorry about that. It still isn't going to happen next chapter (which I may or may not post in the next day or two as further apology for skipping a week), but I can GUARANTEE they will meet the chapter after that. Soon, my darlings~!
> 
> This chapter would LITERALLY have not happened without Brooke and lanadelraywood. Thank you, ladies- I'm nothing without you.

* * *

_'Ka-kaw!'_

The sound of his text tone in the otherwise quiet dressing room catches Michael's attention easily, his hands faltering briefly where he's twisting a lock of his hair around a soft curler though he makes no move to grab the piece of technology. The last few pieces are secured with nimble fingers before he’s notified of receiving a picture message as well; the redhead rolls his eyes, grumbling to himself as he snatches up his cell and unlocks it. "What the fuck do you want, Gav- _oh_..."

What greets him is not the Brit who had, apparently, once again changed all of his ringtones to his own obnoxious bird noise. Instead, there's a picture of a familiar, plush leather chair in a certain bar owner's office, and the words _'I'm waiting...'_ A smirk spreads across his face, and he taps out a quick reply before shrugging on a loose button-down and leaving it open over his bare chest and jeans.

_'I'll be there in a second._ '

He knocks lightly at Geoff's open office door, leaning against the frame casually with a hand propped on his hip and a coy smile curling his lips. "What can I do for you, boss?" The older man barely glances up from the paperwork spread across his desk, intently reading over a report and jotting down notes in the margin, but waves Michael in distractedly.

"Door, please, buddy. This thing with Johnson is causing more trouble than he's worth. He’s swearing up, down, and sideways to Ryan that the shipment’s been _delayed_  by Marksmen for the fourth time, but Joel came across some of his stock just last week. I don’t know what game this dickhead thinks he’s playing, or who he’s playing for- he sure as hell isn’t loyal to _me_.” Geoff slams down his pen and rubs a hand over his face in frustration. The young redhead props his hip against the desk and glances over the report quickly, resting his hand on the nape of his boss’s neck and absently tangling his fingers into the soft hair there.

“Let Rye take care of him- he’s been _itching_ to for months- and I can be sure that Jamie is in position to get his ass in there and take over the factory. It doesn’t solve the issue of the missing weapons- although it may give us a trail to follow to find it- but at the very least it will prevent anything else from disappearing. Besides, the kid has been desperately trying to get your attention for a while now.” The brunette looks up properly at that, gaze falling on Michael for the first time since he entered the room; he leans back in his chair with a smirk, pupils slowly dilating.

“ _Desperately_ trying to get my attention, huh? You know a thing or two about that, don’t you baby boy? Is someone feeling neglected with all the new kids running around and stealing all my time?” Michael licks his lips before pouting slightly, allowing the older man to draw his body close; his knees settle easily into the slight dimples in the chair on either side of Geoff’s thighs, the current position of straddling his boss deliciously familiar.

“I just miss you, daddy. Gav and Lindsay and everyone have been so busy- it’s been _lonely_.” He peers demurely at Geoff through lowered lashes, shivering as strong hands settle possessively at his hips and start to slide along his sides. The older man takes a moment to brush the button-down off pale shoulders, grey eyes roving hungrily over the exposed flesh before he leans forward to trail kisses along the dancer’s collarbone. Michael smothers a laugh with a moan as the soft mustache tickles over his skin, dragging his hands over thickly muscled shoulders to burrow back into dark hair. “ _Daddy_.”

“I know, baby. Let me make it up to you.” They crash together in a deep kiss, soft noises of pleasure escaping the younger man’s throat as callused fingers burn a trail along his spine before gripping his behind, dragging their hips together.

Michael has just started to settle into a comfortable rhythm of grinding down into the lap beneath him, head thrown back to welcome the teasing nips and kisses being dragged across his throat, when an obnoxious ringing starts up. Twin growls of frustration cut through the air, the redhead twisting around to glare at the offending phone. He scowls as Geoff reaches for it, leaning away from the attempt at an apologetic kiss. “Don’t give me that, Michael, it’s club business. _Two seconds_. Ramsey speaking.” The older man sounds remarkably composed when he answers, and Michael glares hazily for a moment before an idea pops into his head.

As Geoff continues with his conversation, the dancer sinks gracefully to his knees and pushes the other man’s legs apart, smiling devilishly as the voice above him cracks. He wastes no time in unzipping and tugging open his boss’s fly, ignoring the hand half-heartedly slapping at his arm in favor of wiggling his own hand past the waistband to wrap around Geoff's cock. The solid ten seconds of silence- paired with a look of slack-jawed, aroused disbelief that the redhead catches when he glances up- sends a molten bolt of arousal through his veins, his own erection aching. The older man returns to his conversation, his voice pitched an octave higher as he reassures whoever is on the other line that he’s fine, and Michael eases his hand and the hard flesh he’s holding free.

He licks his lips, eyeing the flushed head before leaning forward to catch the bead of precum leaking from the slit with his tongue; a soft moan escapes his throat at both the taste and the way the older man’s hips jump involuntarily. Smothering a smug grin, Michael slides his mouth over the crown and uses a teasing amount of suction. Geoff hangs up the phone with a clatter and pushes weakly at the shoulders between his thighs, struggling to focus.

“ _Michael_. No time, baby boy, c'mon. Meg- _mm, sweetheart_ \- Meg’s sick, can’t come in, we need- _Christ_ , stop, _stop_ , I need you to go and- go and- Ray-“ The redhead immediately pulls off with a ‘pop’ at that, scowling furiously.

“You did _not_ just say the rookie’s name while your dick was in my mouth. I don’t give a fuck when you say Gavin's, but-“ Geoff ducks down and quiets him with a quick, firm kiss, callused fingers curling possessively around the younger man’s jaw.

“Relax, babe. You know you’re the only thing on my mind when you have that pretty mouth on me. But there just isn’t time. Be a doll for your daddy and go tell Ray he’s soloing tonight to cover Meg and let Jon know that there’s a change in the line up. Promise I’ll be all yours after the show.” Michael’s fury only burns hotter, pushing himself to his feet and tugging against the hands that catch his hips.

“Fucking seriously? Your standards have gone to shit if you’re letting some damn newbie solo on his first night.” The boss raises an eyebrow, mustache twitching as he fights back a smile.

“I seem to remember a certain Jersey spitfire soloing on _his_ first night, kiddo."

“That’s _different_ , I was fucking amazing and your lineup was nothing without me.”

“ _Mm_ , I love when you’re cocky, it’s such a good look on you.” Michael twists out of the tight hold at the gentle ribbing, retreating to the far side of the desk to glare from a distance as he grabs a random tee off the floor to tug over his head.

“Fuck off, asshole. Go talk to him yourself if you want the scrawny kid so badly.” Geoff tucks himself away with a slight grimace of discomfort, then folds his hands and rests his forearms against the desk as he leans closer to his young lover, face growing serious.

“Michael. It wasn’t a request. I don’t want to have to take you over my knee before a show. Be a good boy and do what I told you.” The dancer bristles and grits his teeth, meeting Geoff’s calm stare with a look that could kill a lesser man, before he deflates.

“You fucking owe me, bastard. That ass is mine tonight.” The older man immediately grins, resettling back in his chair.

“Whatever my little prince wants, baby, it’s yours. Kiss before you go?" The only answer is his office door being slammed, and Geoff chuckles as he picks his phone back up and dials out. "Good news, Haywood- Johnson is yours to deal with as you see fit..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Thanks in advance for comments and kudos!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr for updates, behind-the-scenes thoughts, and randomness:  
> donotjustlive-fly.tumblr.com


	5. Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It takes a few minutes once Ray sits down at his vanity in the brightly-lit room to notice an addition to the otherwise mostly-empty surface, far too distracted by the chaos of his fellow dancers preparing for the night around him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this a little earlier because I didn't want to sit on it any longer, and I have work in the morning so I wouldn't be able to post it until the evening if I waited until tomorrow. I hope no one minds?
> 
> I'm really pleased that the plot is start to pick up and actually weave together in my head- I can't explain how excited I am for the next two chapters. I hope all of you are still enjoying this as much as I am!
> 
> All my love and appreciation goes to lanadelraywood and my Brooke- they've put up with my little bouts of insecurity and insanity, and deserve a million and one kudos.

* * *

"Narvaez?" Ray catches a split second of the starry-eyed look on Melody's face across the table before he turns toward whoever had interrupted their discussion about some of their fellow new hires. He blinks in surprise to see an aloof Michael, hair wrapped in a ridiculous number of small curlers. The delicate, shimmery performance makeup already painted on his skin is an odd contrast to his oversized tee shirt and baggy jeans.

"Uh, yeah, that's me. What's up, man?" The redhead wrinkles his nose slightly before his expression smoothes again.

"Meg is sick- we have a hole in our line-up and we're short on floor staff with her gone. Geoff wanted to know if you'd do a solo act instead of the newbie thing and if you'd be willing to dance around with drinks and work the crowd." Ebony brows shoot up and Ray exchanges a shocked glance with his companion.

" _Really_? I mean, of course, I'll do whatever he needs me too, but I don't really have a solid routine or-"

"He and Lindsay seem pretty fucking sure that you'll be just fine. Go chat with Miles about what you're going to dance to and tell Jon to scratch Meg on his list for tonight." Michael turns and struts away with a flippant 'good luck', leaving Ray staring in bewilderment after him.

"What'd you do to get my silly donut's knickers in a twist, little Ray?" The seated duo turns quickly as someone pipes up from behind them again, now blinking at the lanky bartender who's gazing after the dancer with a look of open affection.

“I’m asking myself the same thing, believe me." The brunette laughs, swinging a chair around and straddling it.

"Don't take it too hard- he only acknowledged me to yell about drink orders for the first few months I was here, and now he's my boi! I'm sure you'll be best mates in no time. I'm Gavin, by the way, if you missed it yesterday. It's _very_ nice to finally meet you- I've heard lots from Lindsay and Jack. And Melly-bean too." The Brit winks at Melody, causing her to flush pink and Ray to grin. Before their conversation can go any further, Jack calls Gavin's name from somewhere behind the bar in obvious frustration; with a shameless grin, the brunette pops out of the chair and ruffles his companions' hair. "Have fun tonight, little Ray! Mel, want to give a hand with whatever Jack-o needs?" The woman nods eagerly, nearly tripping over herself as she jumps up from the table. Before she goes far, though, she hugs Ray hard.

"You're going to do amazing, honey. I'll be cheering you on. See you later!" She waves cheerfully as she follows Gavin across the bar. Ray remains at the table for a moment, stock-still, before rising to head toward the dressing room. ' _This is going to be one hell of a night.'_

It takes a few minutes once Ray sits down at his vanity in the brightly-lit room to notice an addition to the otherwise mostly-empty surface, far too distracted by the chaos of his fellow dancers preparing for the night around him. Tucked in a slender vase is a single rose in full bloom, the petals a rich, dark scarlet that looks as plush as it feels and is almost dizzyingly sweet when he leans in to sniff it. There's no tag identifying where it had come from, and he stares in dumbfounded silence until someone comes up behind him.

"Hey, Ray, do you need help with- oh, _hey_ , who's that from? Does our new kid have an admirer already?” He jumps involuntarily as Lindsay props her chin on his shoulder, grinning broadly at him in the mirror.

“I- honestly, I have no idea. There’s no card- it was just there.” The redhead gives a delighted laugh, squeezing his arms affectionately before spinning him around.

“ _Adorable_. The investigation will have to wait until later, unfortunately. Let me do your stage makeup so you can get dressed- the doors are opening in about thirty, and we need to be on the floor ready to start taking orders. Did you talk to Miles and Jon?” Ray nods, gaze drifting involuntarily back toward the rose, and Lindsay grips his chin gently. “Ah-ah, no, makeup and clothes. You are not going to be late for your first night. I like you too much to let you get fired this early. Come to my spot- I’ll have to take you out tomorrow to get stuff that actually matches your skin tone, but I think I’ll be able to whip something together that’ll work.” He lets himself be dragged across the room, catching both a final glimpse of the crimson flower and the chilly stare he’s receiving from Michael. ‘ _I really need to find out what I did to piss him off…_ '

The first part of the night is a blur of voices and lights and the dizzying scent of alcohol. Ray does his best to remember the drinks being shouted at him over the loud club music pounding through the speakers while the room fills up. This is a feat that becomes steadily more difficult as some of the more seasoned dancers (Griffon, Kara, and Arryn, if he was remembering correctly) begin improvising on the stage. Once or twice he’s nearly hip-checked by a certain redhead who merely gives him a snide apology before moving on, leaving the ebony haired man to frown after him while thanking whatever unfortunate patron had caught the brunt of his fall.

It feels like it’s barely been a few minutes by the time Jon catches him taking a quick water break behind the bar, the curly-haired brunette harried but smiling. “You ready to go on, bud? Geoff wants to get the show going.” Ray feels his heart race with nervous excitement as he nods, shooting Gavin a smile when the bartender ruffles his hair in passing, and slips through the rowdy crowd to get backstage. His fellow new hires give him mixed looks of awe and jealousy from where they’re hovering in the wings, and he does his best not to fidget under their collective stare.

“Ray! You ready for your debut, little virgin dancer?” Lindsay, theoretically sober in spite of her drunk-on-adrenalin enthusiasm, slings an arm around his shoulders and plants a lipstick-stained kiss on his cheek; the younger man doesn’t miss the spiteful snicker the ‘virgin’ comment gets from Michael, who had also appeared backstage at the woman’s side, and tries not to bristle.

“Absolutely. Never been more ready. Nothing to be nervous about, right?” His companion giggles and squeezes him briefly, then heads over to give the other newbies a pep talk. As the music quiets out in the main room and the crowd cheers in response to Jon retaking the stage, Ray forces himself to take a slow, deep breath, trying to believe his own words. If the choreographer and their boss believed in him, well, he had to trust their judgment and not prove them wrong in the process.

Impulsively, he turns and dashes back to the dressing room, snapping the stem of the rose short and pinning it onto the lapel of his vest on his way back to the stage. The subtle weight and scent of it is oddly comforting, even as the sight of it earns him a sour look from his fellow male dancer. As the music starts up for the rookie’s routine, he squares his shoulders. Exactly like auditions- just pretend he was at home. No problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the positive comments both here and on Tumblr. You guys are the best!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr for updates, behind-the-scenes thoughts, and randomness:  
> donotjustlive-fly.tumblr.com


	6. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Ray is gently shoved out of the wings and Lindsay disappears before he gets enough breath to say anything in response, the young man left staring after her dumbly. The sound of the entire building erupting with cheers and catcalls as the curvy woman takes the stage knocks him out of his slight daze and he shakes his head to clear it, turning to hurry back out to the bar area._
> 
>  
> 
> In which our fated duo finally crosses paths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohai, I’m still alive. More importantly, so is this story. If there’s anyone still here to read it- thank you for the patience. This past year has been glorious chaos- moving into an apartment with two friends, living on my own for the first time, college, finally settling on a major... Luckily it’s now summer and while I’m going to have to stop dragging my butt and get a job sooner rather than later, I’m going to try my best to focus on writing until school starts back up. Hopefully you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> Thanks as always to the best beta and buddy a gal could ask for, my Brooke- you’re amazing and I’d be even more of a mess without you.
> 
>  
> 
> **Potential TW (because I’m a tad overly careful about this kind of stuff): minor unwanted advances of a slightly sexual nature. Nothing too bad, but I’ve become hyperaware of being safe with giving a heads-up.**

* * *

Ray stumbles into the wings, blind from the searing stage lights and half-deaf from the enthusiasm of the crowd. He's being hugged by a squealing woman before he's even fully aware, awkwardly patting Lindsay's shoulder as his ears stop ringing enough for her voice to come into focus.

"-amazing! They loved you, Geoff is bursting with pride, I'm so excited to work with you on some new moves! Get back out on the floor, kitten, we're swamped, but we have so much to discuss, let's get lunch tomorrow! Heading on stage, try to catch some of my performance, kiss kiss!" Ray is gently shoved out of the wings and Lindsay disappears before he gets enough breath to say anything in response, the young man left staring after her dumbly. The sound of the entire building erupting with cheers and catcalls as the curvy woman takes the stage knocks him out of his slight daze and he shakes his head to clear it, turning to hurry back out to the bar area.

Every single one of the patrons are intently focused on the stage where Lindsay is working her magic, making it far easier to weave through the maze of tables and chairs with his tray held carefully above his head. Between running orders Ray watches the woman with unabashed awe, her routine entrancing even to himself. She was passion brought to life, from her flame-colored hair in thick ringlets spilling over her bare shoulders to the crimson corset pulling her into an elegant hourglass to the fiery ombré of her fishnets crisscrossing her pale thighs and calves. The way she moved around the stage was unashamedly sultry, every inch of her fluid in motion from the way she dipped down to flirt at the front row to her ease on the pole to even her saunter as she crossed the stage.

Ray is so distracted by watching her perform that he doesn't realize he's come to a stop at the far side of the room until a clammy palm clamps tightly around his wrist. He instinctively apologizes as he tries to pull away, but the fingers have formed a steel tourniquet that shoots off lances of pain, the sensation of his bones grinding together and his skin dimpling cutting his voice short with a hiss. The man the hold belongs to yanks the Puerto Rican into his lap, ignoring the choked objections from the young man as well as the tray of empty glasses crashing to the floor.

"You're a pretty one, new little dancer. How about you show me what you've got and maybe I'll buy you for a private dance." Ray's skin crawls from both the moist breath and oily words sliding along his throat, attempting to jerk away with growing franticness as an arm locks around his waist and a tongue drags over the shell of his ear. The next thing he knows he's wobbling unsteadily on his own feet and blinking in confusion at a black t-shirt clothed back, broadly muscled shoulders tapering down to a surprisingly trim waist.

"I think you're done for tonight, _sir_. Our employees are to be treated with the utmost respect, and patrons who can't accept that aren't welcome in this establishment. Dooley will escort you out, and if I ever see your face in these walls again I won't hesitate to make sure you'll never be able to touch another person for the rest of your miserable life." His apparent savior's low, borderline growl of a voice would stir an interest in him at any other time, but for the moment all Ray can do is try not to puke. The gradual awareness of most of the club staring in his direction causes the roiling of his stomach to increase tenfold, and he sways on his feet. Knight-in-dark-tee turns as 'Dooley' leads his shadowed assailant quickly away, gripping the smaller man's shoulder just long enough to steady him as unexpectedly kind eyes begin searching his own.

"Let's get you out of here, kid. Is all of your stuff in the dressing room? Do you have some way to get home?" Ray just stares up at him for a moment, vaguely placing him as the man by the bar from auditions, then shakes his head as a large hand starts guiding him around the perimeter towards the back rooms of the club.

"'m Ray, not a kid. And I can't _leave_ , I'm covering for Meg- look how busy it is, we can't afford to be short staffed any further. Need to go clean up the glasses..." He digs his heels in as they pass the bar, reaching for the tray the other man must have picked up, and frowns when it's held away from him. "Hey!"

"You're shaking like a leaf, ki- _Ray_. Do you really think you’d be able to keep a glass steady right now, let alone an entire tray of them filled with alcohol?” Ray glares, folding his arms across his chest in an attempt to hide the tremble he’d only just noticed himself.

“I’m _fine_."

“What the hell happened?” Geoff appears beside them suddenly, looking both furious and concerned; Ray startles at the older man hugs him around the shoulders briefly. “You okay, kid?”

“I'm-“

“Some gutsy _client_ got handsy. The guy is gone and I really think that Ray should head out too.” The Puerto Rican returns his scowl to the muscular blond.

“I _told_ you I’m fine, I can speak for myself- shocker, I know- and who the hell even _are_ you?” Geoff interrupts again, planting one hand in the center of the other guy’s broad chest and pushing him away gently, giving Ray’s shoulder a squeeze with the other.

“Get back out on the floor, Ryan. I’ll take care of Ray.”  _‘Ryan, huh…?'_  The blond lingers for a moment longer, his eyes oddly intense as he glances between his boss and the smaller man, before giving a brisk nod and turning away to disappear into the crowd. Geoff jostles Ray slightly, giving the younger a smile that surprisingly smoothes his ruffled feathers. "So. I trust that you're good to finish out the night, but if you need to take a moment to regroup or down some of water, you're welcome to hide out in my office. I think I'm going to stay on the floor for a bit, so you won't have to deal with me hovering." The older man grins and Ray feels a sliver of relief ease his shoulders.

“Thanks, bossman."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No joke, the subject line when I emailed this chapter to my B to look over was "oh look they've finally met”. It only took six chapters for the main two characters to actually semi-meet. Genuinely R.I.P. me. Luckily, things are going to actually pick up a bit more, although the chapter I’d originally intended to be next is being bumped back one because something else needs to come first! (I’m almost looking forward to this new next chapter more than the old next chapter, whoops?)
> 
> Again, if you’re actually still around to read this over a year later I cannot thank you enough. Any and all comments are so greatly appreciated!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr for updates, behind-the-scenes thoughts, and randomness:  
> donotjustlive-fly.tumblr.com


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